


Five Times: Keith and the Dads of Marmora

by EdgarAllenPoet



Series: Dads of Marmora [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5 Times, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, It's all fun and games until it's not, Nervous break down, Shenanigans, blade of marmora, dads of marmora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllenPoet/pseuds/EdgarAllenPoet
Summary: [Bonus, one time it literally saved his life and he really didn't have a choice but to roll with it].  So actually, this is a 'seven times' fic, but that doesn't quite have the same ring to it."'If you want to rest more, I will stay. You are safe.' Keith wondered quietly how the person talking to him now was possibly the same leader he’d met at the Blade of Marmora."





	Five Times: Keith and the Dads of Marmora

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a post I read by leonawriter (see hyperlink below (first word)). 
> 
> Canon-compliant kind of…. takes place before season two episode twelve. Through a weird worm-holing accident, they end up in a part of the universe Allura and Coran have never seen before. They’re too far for Zarkon to find them, trapped in the castle with two members of the Blade of Marmora, and they have plenty of time to get to know each other.

1.

[Most](http://leonawriter.tumblr.com/post/159426840359/ive-seen-blade-of-marmora-find-keith-as-a-young) of Keith’s discomfort with the Blade of Marmora had to be residual. Most of it.  At least 90%.  The other ten percent was because he kept catching them staring at him.  

At first he thought he was just paranoid, which was a reasonable thing to be at this point.  He was paranoid, or just exhausted and delusional, but either way he tried convincing himself that they weren’t actually staring at him.

He was wrong.

He caught them watching him all the time, Kolivan with a weathered stare that would slip away casually whenever he was caught.  There was never a trace of guilt on him, which made it impossible to point out.  He couldn’t demand a reason for why the guy was looking at him when he was very obviously looking out a window.

When Antok stared he didn’t even bother looking away afterwards, just kept boring into Keith with that ominously glowing mask.  His real eyes were hidden beneath, never seeing the light of day (space?) since he never removed the mask, but they were still _there_ , and they were _watching_.  

They watched him during training, which they were doing a lot of while lost.  There was nothing much for the paladins to do to help out, not even tech-wise, since they had no idea what had gone wrong anyways.  The little they could do, Shiro said, they could do outside of training.  The fight with Zarkon was coming, and they had to be ready.  

The Blade members never practiced, but they were always watching, poised up in the observation room next to Coran, heavy eyes trailing Keith around the mat.  It made him nervous for more than one reason, and it made him mess up, which in turn made him angry.

He’d fought those guys.  He’d fought dozens of them and had his ass handed to him effortlessly, and now there they were, staring at him, observing him, and creeping him the hell out.  

During a simple sparring practice- one on one sessions with the gladiator- Keith was determined to give them something to look at.  “Level five, I can take it,” he told Shiro, activating his bayard and reassuring that his Blade was tucked safely into his belt, just in case.  

Shiro shot him a look, expression unamused, and said, “Level four.”  The gladiator rose up from the floor, and Keith took his stance.  Fine, level four, whatever.

“Someone’s being a hotshot,” Lance murmured to Hunk, who nodded conspiratorially.  He didn’t know if they knew the Blade were watching.  He didn’t know how to bring it up.  Allura still hated the Galra -any Galra- with a fiery passion, and Keith didn’t want to say anything to make it worse, paranoia be damned.

Keith was so deep in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice the match starting.  The edge of the gladiator’s bow staff whipped past his nose, a warning, while the others hollered from the sidelines.

“Watch it!” Pidge yelled.

Shiro barked, “ _Keith_! Focus!”  

Keith evaded, kicked, swung and missed.  The leapt to the side to avoid the business end of the bow staff, rolling seamlessly over his shoulder and to his feet.  The gladiator was fast, though, and level four was still higher than most of them could handle on their own.  It cracked into his ribs and sent him tumbling, and he barely had time to scramble to his feet and raise his blade to block the staff swinging down towards his head.  He grabbed the staff with one hand, kicked off the gladiators chest, and launched himself out of striking range for a chance to breathe.  

There were eyes on him, he knew it, and not the noisy eyes of his teammates yelling instructions and warnings.  There were silent eyes too.  He spared a glance up to the observation room and was met with the unwavering stare of the two Galra on their ship.  Then he was met with a swift kick to the side of the head, and he went crashing down into the floor.

“End training sequence!” Shiro commanded, making the robot slump into power down mode.  Hunk was already at Keith’s side, checking both of Keith’s eyes before easing him up.  

“Follow my finger,” he said, moving it around and checking for a concussion.  Shiro appeared at his side and crouched down.  

“What was that?” he asked.  “You’re usually focused during training.”

“I, um… zoned out.”  Those were the wrong words to say, it seemed, since they earned him a lecture.  On staying focused, on keeping your mind clear and your breathing even, and on getting enough sleep, _had Keith been resting_ ?  Keith didn’t mention that Shiro hadn’t possibly slept more than two hours since they’d gotten stranded, which had been a _while_.  Once Hunk said his brain was fine- “These helmets sure are sturdy”- Shiro sighed and announced that they were done for the day.

Keith wasn’t done though.  He was frustrated.  He feigned going to his room to clean up and doubled back to the empty training deck, calling up the gladiator and shouting, “Level three!” to the room.  

They were still watching him.  He knew they were still watching him, but he did his best to keep his mind clear and his eyes on the gladiator.  He’d be damned if he got taken down again.

He knew they were watching, but he didn’t notice them coming down until his eyes caught someone in the edge of his periphery.  Expecting to be alone in the room, Keith whirled around with his blade raised, heart pounding and adrenaline soaring, ready to attack.  It was Kolivan, watching silently.  Keith paused, nerves calming, and then got knocked to the ground.

He groaned into the floor, not bothering to peel himself up quite yet, and mumbled “End training sequence,” just loud enough for the room to hear.  The robot shut down, and Keith reached up to rub a bruise forming on his shoulder.  The sound of someone chuckling caught his attention.

Keith’s eyes snapped up to find Kolivan staring down at him.  “It is like watching the new recruits train,” he said.  “They are always entertaining.”

“Glad I amuse you…” Keith muttered bitterly, pushing himself up with shaky arms and stooping to retrieve his dropped bayard.  He regarded Kolivan hesitantly, not sure what the Galra wanted from him.  He took a nervous step back when he pushed off the wall.

“Your stance needs work,” he said, catching Keith off guard as he approached.  Large hands on his shoulders turned Keith back around to face the sleeping gladiator, and a foot nudged his own back, just a hair.  “A smaller stance is faster.  It will make your lighter on your feet, and easier to turn your hips for kicking.”   Kolivan’s hands settled on his hips, turned him sideways, prodded at his back to make him stand upright, and pulled his shoulder down.

“Relaxed shoulders make for stronger arms.  Unclench your jaw.  Be at peace, now.”

Keith was rarely a fan of people touching him, let alone strangers touching him, but Kolivan spoke with the kind of authority that didn’t dare to be questioned.  And he was giving… training advice.  Keith could go with that, he figured.  

“You stay relaxed until the moment you strike,” Kolivan instructed.  “You disguise your motives.  Never let them know what is to come.”

“And when you are not striking-” Keith suddenly found his bayard being knocked from his hand as Kolivan grasped both of his wrists and tugged them up, arms forming a protective shield in front of his face.  “-your arms stay up.  Your kind’s heads are fragile.  Protect them.”

“Okay,” Keith murmured, keeping his arms in guard position.  Kolivan drew back, walking around the side of him, and then smacked his own steel-hard hand over the back of Keith’s.

Keith hissed in a breath, hands pulling in, but Kolivan wrapped his hands around Keith’s wrists and pulled them back up.  “Always fists,” he said, hands curling over Keith’s fingers and rollings them into fists.  “Your fingers are small.  They will break.”  

Keith nodded silently, and Kolivan stepped back again.  He retreated back to the wall, and Keith stayed statue still in place.  Kolivan’s voice called out, “Level four.”  When Keith shot a glance back at him, Kolivan gazed back calmly.

“You can take it, little blade,” he said.  Keith took a deep, steadying breath, and turned his attention back towards the gladiator.

 

…

 

2.

“What are they doing?” Kolivan asked, appearing silently at Pidge’s side and making her yelp and jolt sideways.  Keith and Lance stilled in the battle they’d been waging on the floor of the common room, Lance straddling Keith’s stomach with one hand on the side of Keith’s face, crushing him into the ground.  Keith kicked out uselessly, and his arms were pinned to his sides by Lance’s knees.  

“Let _go_!” he growled.

Pidge, who was wholly unconcerned with whatever the boys were doing on the floor, shrugged one shoulder and said, “Lance was beating Keith at a video game.”

Kolivan was silent for a moment, possibly processing this.  “A game,” he eventually said.  “They are playing?”  Even with the castle’s automatic translating device, communication could be a little tricky.  There wasn’t a Galra equivalent to the word video game, for example.  Kolivan had gotten close enough.

“Yeah,” Pidge said.  “Playing.”

“Just like cubs,” he said, and Pidge looked over and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah… sure….”

“Like what?” Lance asked, and then screeched when Keith sunk his teeth into the hand that had strayed too close to his mouth.  “That’s cheating, you dirty rotten son of a-” Keith got his balance back and managed to shove Lance sideways, and the two went tumbling again, kicking up space dust in a storm of elbows and teeth and curse words.

“How old are you paladins?” Kolivan asked, and Pidge chewed on her thumbnail for a moment while she thought about it.

“Like… maybe twenty,” she settled on eventually.  Shiro was older than all of them, but he was an extraneous variable.  She didn’t actually know the other’s birthdays, and while she herself wasn’t quite yet sixteen, the Garrison was a post-secondary military program.  Enlistment started at eighteen, and they were second years, so.  “Yeah, probably around nineteen or twenty years old.”

Kolivan gazed off in thought at the news, seeming distracted, and after a while he stood and walked out of the room.

 

…

“Antok, the paladins are so young.  Antok.  Listen.  They’re toddlers.”

 

…

3.

“You have not eaten.”  Antok startled the everliving shit out of Keith as he materialized in the shadows of the hallway as Keith was making his way out of the bathroom.  Keith leapt back, startled, hands coming up in front of his face defensively.

“Be at peace,” Antok said, same as Kolivan had said multiple times before.  Just like in the past, it did little to help.  “Your species needs an incredible amount of calories.”

“I’m, um… I’m fine.  Not hungry,” Keith tried to say, faltering under the glowing eyes of the mask.  

“You will be weak,” Antoke told him.  Keith huffed out a breath and went to walk past him.  

“I’m fine.  I’d just be sick if I ate dinner tonight anyways.”

“The food is contaminated?” Antok asked, head tilting to the side curiously, like an owl.  Or a puppy.  “Will it not affect the others?”

Keith rolled his eyes and said, “No, no, it’s fine.  It just has milk in it or something.  It’s better not to eat it.”  He’d figured that out the last time Hunk had cooked whatever tonight’s dinner was.  It looked suspiciously like cream, but Keith figured that there wasn’t any milk in space, he’d be fine.  He’d been wrong, and he was not about to repeat that incident again, thank you very much.

“What is wrong with milk?  Humans are mammals, are they not?”

Keith didn’t know how to begin explaining lactose intolerance to the alien in front of him, and he stumbled over his words.  “Some humans can have it.  I can’t.  It makes me sick.”

“Eat something else,” Antok suggested, voice not straying from its usual monotone.  “You will be weak without food.”

Back to that again… This was an argument Keith couldn’t see himself winning, and Shiro was always telling him to pick his battles.  Still….

“Everything’s labeled in Altean.  I’d probably end up poisoning myself anyways.”

Antok tilted his head again, like he was asking a question with his posture.  “Let me help,” he said.  Having no real reason to turn him down, Keith sighed and followed Antok back to the kitchen.

 

…

4.

Keith hadn’t mean to fall asleep, but he must have, since he found himself waking up in the common room. He hummed quietly, eyes heavy with exhaustion as his brain tried to sort out where he was and how he’d gotten there, when he felt something raking through his hair and he realized he was not alone.

Keith opened his eyes the rest of the way and picked his head up from where it had apparently been resting on the flat couch surface. There was a kink in his neck, and he rubbed at it, frowning as he regarded the Galra sitting next to him.  

“Oh,” he said, looking up as Kolivan drew his hand back to himself. “Hi."

"Did you sleep well?” Kolivan asked him. “You were down for several hours. How long does your species usually sleep?"

"What are you doing here?” Keith shot back instead of answering, still unnerved with the security that seemed to be trailing him everywhere. He wouldn’t have wanted to fall asleep in the common room anyways, but especially not with someone watching him.

“I was passing by when I heard a noise,” Kolivan stated. “You were talking in your sleep. You sounded distressed.” Keith had the vaguest hint of a nightmare tickling the back of his memory. They weren’t uncommon, not with the amount of stress they were under and the amount of violence they witnessed on a daily basis. Even before Voltron, Keith was no stranger to nightmares. Ever since Shiro disappeared on Kerberos, and even before that.

“It is not uncommon for cubs to have fitful sleep. Petting tends to soothe. I thought it might help."

Keith didn’t need anyone to soothe him. He needed twelve hours of sleep and a pot of coffee. He didn’t know how to respond to whatever kindness Kolivan was offering to him, so he just nodded dumbly. "Thank you…” he said.

“If you want to rest more, I will stay. You are safe.” Keith wondered quietly how the person talking to him now was possibly the same leader he’d met at the Blade of Marmora, who spoke in orders and statements, who reluctantly let Keith enter a trial he knew he wouldn’t win. Who had Keith crushed to the floor and would have happily thrown him and Shiro out the airlock. This was somehow the same person who was running his fingers through Keith’s hair and telling him he was safe.

They weren’t safe, not by a long shot, but it felt nice to hear. It would have been childish to believe. Keith clamored off the couch and swayed on his feet.

“I should go,” he said, then retreated to his own room. There, once again, he had bad dreams.

 

…

 

5.

“Okay, so you hold it like this,” Lance instructed, positioning the video game controller properly in Kolivan’s massive hands.  Keith was holding his own controller, leaning back against the couch and clicking idly at buttons while Lance got Kolivan set up.  “You press these with your thumbs, see?”

“Thumbs?”

“Um…” Lance looked down at his own hands for a moment, then held up two thumbs-up and wiggled the appendages at Kolivan.  “Thumbs,” he said.

“I see.”

“Keith and I will go first to show you how to play, okay?” Lance said as he clicked them through the start menu and into a one-on-one match in whatever Street Fighter-esque game Pidge got with her system at the space mall.  “So your goal is to knock out the other person,” Lance explained over the start music.  

Keith smashed every button on his controller at once and saw his character spin towards Lance’s with a sword, effectively cutting his head off in a single swipe.  Lance squawked indignantly.  Keith looked at him and smirked.

“Like that?”

 

…

6.

They found a planet.  Somewhere on the very edge of whatever solar system they’d gotten stranded in, they found a planet with civilization that had apparently tried to establish contact around 11,000 years ago.  Their job was to head down, play nice and figure out where the hell they were, and then head back to reality.  That was the plan.

It was supposed to be a peaceful mission.  Keith was going to stop believing Coran when he said that.

The people on whatever planet they were at were less than thrilled to see the paladins.  They called the lions ‘demons of the sky’ and greeted them with spears and booby traps.  They should have turned around and left.

Should have.

Lance got grabbed.  Keith wasn’t sure how or when, but the natives grabbed a hold of him and hauled him away.  Shiro was already trapped in a circle of warriors, beating them away one by one with a tree branch he’d picked up off the ground.  Pidge had gotten unfortunately hit across the head with a rock, and Hunk was escorting her back to the castle, so they could get her into a pod ASAP.  Allura and Coran were working on keeping the angry people off of the castle and keeping it airborne, so Keith was the only one who’d seen Lance get dragged off, and he was the only one who could do anything about it.

Perfect.  Just perfect.  

He ran after the aliens, heading in the direction Lance had disappeared in, and quickly found himself overwhelmed.  They were everywhere- falling from tree tops and popping out of caves and streams, and running at him on foot.  Keith didn’t want to _kill_ them, no matter how violent they were, but there was only so much he could do by striking with the blunt of his blade.

“Keith!” Lance’s voice called out from somewhere nearby.  Keith followed the sound, looking straight up, and found Lance dangling from a tree.  They had him tied up by his ankles, and a few were parading his gun around like a trophy.  

“I’m coming!” Keith yelled back.  He punted a nearby alien as far as he could -it attached itself to his leg.  That’s what you get- and threw himself at the tree Lance was stuck at, holding his bayard in his teeth as he began to climb.  

The trees were mysteriously slippery, and it was moments like these that Keith regretted ever wanting to go to space.  Space was weird.  Space was stupid.  Space was filled with trees that oozed lubricant and aliens that tied his teammate to a tree.  

Goo be damned, Keith struggled his way up the tree and eventually made it to the branch that Lance was tied to.  He only had to kick three aliens away on his way up, and nobody tried to touch him once he got to the branch and clung onto it.  Everyone had swarmed to Shiro, who was doing alright with his tree branch down below them, all things considered.

Keith was going to remind Allura of this mission for the rest of her life, every time she lectured him on “diplomacy.”  Diplomacy was getting their asses kicked.  

The tree branch was just as slippery as the rest of the stupid tree, and after several near-falls, Keith found the only way to properly hang on was to wrap his legs and arms around it like a sloth.  He felt ridiculous, and being partially upside down that high up was making him dizzy, and it was pretty hard to keep a grip on his bayard when he was holding it between his teeth, but all in all he’d been in worse situations.

If Lance laughed at him, Keith was going to kick his ass.  

He inched his way down the branch until he reached the rope-type-thing that had Lance strung up by his ankles about three feet below, just out of Keith’s reach.  Seeing no other way of doing this, he crossed his ankles and tightened his legs, then let go of the branch with his arms and let himself swing all the way upside down, hanging from his knees from the tree branch.  

It swayed alarmingly, and Lance yelped.  Keith shifted his bayard to his right hand and reached down to Lance with his left, trying to ignore the good thirty feet of space there was between them and the ground.

“Sit up and take my hand!” he hollered.  Lance, by some miracle, didn’t talk back at all.  He simply struggled into a stomach curl and then clung to the rope, shaking a bit from the strain as he reached up for Keith’s hand.  He got a hold of Keith’s arm with both hands, and Keith said, “Hang on tight, I’m going to cut you down.”

And then he did.

And it turned out that was a very bad idea.

One second he was slicing his knife through the rope, then next Lance’s weight was yanking painfully at his shoulder and his knees were slipping and his legs were giving out, and then they were falling face first towards the hard ground below them.

Lance screamed.  Keith screamed.  They had a split second of ‘I’m about to die’ horror, before huge hands were snatching them out of the air and throwing them around like rag dolls.  Keith hit something hard, but not as hard as the ground.  He looked up to see Kolivan, and then over to where Antok had Lance thrown over his shoulder.

Kolivan shouted, “Take the boys!” and without a single word of warning _threw_ Keith through the fucking air.  Antok caught him effortlessly, one handed, and held him around the middle against his side as he bolted back for the pod that had come down from the castle.  Being carried like a football jostled him around like hell, and Lance didn’t look much better.  Apparently the Galra weren’t very graceful sprinters.  

It got the job done, though.  Antok tossed Keith and Lance bodily into the escape pod before diving in himself, and they were followed shortly by the others.  Kolivan had dragged Shiro over by the back of his armor and tossed him inside, and then they were slamming the doors closed and rocketing up into the air as the natives continued to chuck spears at them.

It didn’t pierce the metal of the ship, and they were back to the castle in minutes.  The entire trip back, though, Kolivan spent fussing over the paladins, checking for injuries and poking at limbs to double check bone strength.  He prodded gently as a tear that a spear had made in Shiro’s armor, and he turned and spoke to Keith.

“In the future, remember that humans cannot fly,” he said.  Lance busted out laughing.  Keith punched him in the shoulder.

 

…

...

1.

“What do you _want_ from me!?”

“I want you to stop pretending to be Shiro!  You’re not Shiro!  You’ll never be like him!”

“You think I don’t fucking _know that already_!?  I’m just trying to do what’s best for the team!”

“You don’t deserve to lead the team!”

…

 

They’d come to blows, and Keith found himself on an observation deck nursing both a bloody lip and a hurt ego.  Ever since Shiro had disappeared, his and Lance’s fights had gone from mostly harmless to deadly serious, but they hadn’t hit each other before.  A leader wasn’t supposed to hit their followers.  They weren’t supposed to get pulled into petty arguments and they certainly weren’t supposed to deck it out in the command room.

Allura had been ready to kill the both of them, and they’d been pulled apart and sent to opposite ends of the castle to cool down.  But Keith wasn’t cooling down.  The longer he spent away, the angrier he got.

Everyone was a little broken.  Allura hadn’t been the same since they’d lost Shiro- nobody had.  The small amount that she had unwound curled right back up, and she was just as much of a straight spined commander as she’d been at the beginning.  Pidge was quieter.  She slept less.  Hunk didn’t sleep at all, and he was nervous constantly, torn between trying to find Shiro and listening to Keith’s plans and siding with his best friend.  Lance… Lance was just angry.

That wasn’t helping anything.

They didn’t want him to be in charge.  Keith knew that.  Hell, _Keith_ didn’t want himself to be in charge, but Shiro had talked to Allura and Coran about this as much as he had to Keith.  Keith could pilot the black lion (not that they were using it much).  Keith apparently had some potential that Shiro believed in (not that he had any idea what it was).  Keith had incredibly large shoes to fill, and he had to come up with a plan to find Shiro, and he didn’t think he could possibly do any of it.

He was living his life one barely disguised panic attack after another.  And here they thought their life would be easier once Zarkon was dealt with.  But no, they couldn’t go home yet (not that Keith had a home).  Not until they found Haggar, not until they found Pidge’s family, and not until they found Shiro.

Shiro, who would have a better idea of what to do in this situation, or at least a better way of handling it.  Shiro who knew how to talk to Allura, who had her trust, who was a good leader and wasn’t a Galra.  Keith couldn’t fill his shoes.  He couldn’t be Shiro.  He _couldn’t_.

Keith… didn’t know what to do.

There was the mechanical sounds of the door opening behind him, and Keith quickly shot to his feet, turning to face the visitor and wiping the wetness off of his cheeks.  Kolivan stepped into the room, and Keith dropped his guard a bit.

“Oh,” he said.  “Hi.”

“I have been looking for you,” Kolivan said.  The door zipped closed behind him, and Kolivan stepped farther into the room, making his way over to Keith next to the large windows.  Keith turned his attention back to the never ending stretch of outer space before him and wondered where the hell Shiro had gone off to, who had him, what he was going through, whether he was okay, and what the _fuck_ Keith was supposed to do to fix this.  

He looked as far as his eyes would let him and tried really hard not to cry.

But it didn’t work.  Like it or not, his throat was closing up on him and his eyes were swimming.  He couldn’t stop his bottom lip from trembling, and he clenched his fists as he looked purposefully away from the powerful Blade leader next to him.  He couldn’t believe his own weakness, couldn’t believe his failure to hide it in front of someone like Kolivan.  He felt his breath getting tighter as the panic swelled more and more in his chest.

“You are distressed,” Kolivan said.  

Keith choked on his own breath.  He opened his mouth to respond, but the only words he could gasp out were, “I just-” before he was crumbling.  He was crumbling and his legs were giving out and he ended up kneeling on the floor, head clutched in shaking hands as he fell apart.  He expected Kolivan to leave.  He expected Kolivan to not want to deal with this, to not know how to deal with this.  It wasn’t like he needed to.  Keith needed to get himself together, to be a leader, to stop being so fucking useless.

Instead of leaving, though, Kolivan knelt on the floor next to him, and Keith felt the Galra’s hand take up the majority of his upper back as he settled it there.  “It is alright,” he said, voice gentler than Keith could ever imagine possible.  

It didn’t help.  If anything, it broke him further, tears pouring out faster and breathing becoming more stuttered.  

He curled in tighter on himself, tugging at his own hair.  He gritted his teeth hard enough to ache and confessed, “I don’t know what to do….”  

Kolivan pulled him closer ever so gently and wrapped both massive arms around him, fully enveloping Keith in a comforting gesture, warm against the harsh chill of the void just outside the window.  “You are alright,” Kolivan murmured.  “Be at peace.”

Keith couldn’t find it in himself to believe him.  He couldn’t find it in himself to pull away.


End file.
